Dave Walsh is pro gaming's top gun. He has a fat contract, a sponsor, and an army of groupies. But does he have what it takes to conquer the sport's demons?

Dave Walsh is a world-class killer. He has ended more lives than just
about anyone on the planet, and this weekend in Vegas he's going to kill
again. Here he comes now, entering a dark room filled with plasma
screens and oily teens. Dressed in a black T-shirt and jeans, he sizes
up the crowd, walking past models shilling for Dr Pepper and Stride gum,
slowing when the glare of the camera lights hits him. That's when the
screaming starts. No, "Walshy" isn't some adolescent psychopath. He's a
24-year-old hit man who banks more than $100,000 a year playing video
games. Teens and parents alike ask him to sign their controllers, their
shirts, even their body parts. "He's always been my role model," said a
15-year-old Wisconsin kid named Jared at a tournament last October in
Dallas. "He started everything." Because Jared had nothing for Walshy to
sign, he pressed him to autograph his forehead. When asked when he
planned to wash the Sharpie stain from his brow, he said, "Hopefully
never."

Yes, video games are blamed for everything from obesity to
illiteracy, and yes, gamers spend absurd amounts of time in front of
their monitors, but Walshy's no deadbeat. He was a two-sport athlete in
high school (tennis and wrestling). He has a girlfriend and his choice
of groupies, his own clothing line, his own charity, and a sponsorship
deal with Red Bull. Until six years ago, he made his money by sorting
mail 65 hours a week with his dad at a Grand Rapids, Michigan, post
office. Growing up, he heard the usual "You're going to hurt your eyes
staring at that screen!" from his mom, Mary, who is a nurse and a
triathlete, but that didn't stop him from jumping into a buddy's car the
moment he learned about a Halo tournament in Nashville. Halo, for the
uninitiated, tests a gamer's ability to navigate a science-fiction
world, gunning down enemy fighters to capture objects like flags and
skulls. Walshyknown as a brilliant and fearless
strategistreturned from that first tournament with $50. He kept
driving, and winning, and soon he had a team and a sponsor. He won a
Dodge Charger SRT8 and sold it to fund a clothing company. By 2004, he
was the world's foremost Halo player and the star of Major League
Gaming's fledgling pro circuit.

For Walshy, the road to perdition starts with the Claw. Instead of
relying on his index finger to shoot, like everyone else, he uses his
middle finger, which frees up his index finger to move his character
more quickly. The index finger, poised on top of the controller, looks
like a talon. Walshy's also an instinctive leader, which is pivotal in
Halo matches, for which teams line up four-on-four on either side of a
wall of monitors. Most pros rely on a coach who stands behind them
barking instructions, but Walshy operates like a point guard, directing
his teammates with his skipper, slowly maneuvering his opponents into
position for a kill.